


To Wake From a Nightmare

by FaultierGlint77



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Trans Character, Family, Frynert - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jack the Ripper DLC, Jacob and Ned have kids, Other, Post-Jack the Ripper DLC, Wye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 22:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20397109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultierGlint77/pseuds/FaultierGlint77
Summary: For nearly two months, Jacob was imprisoned beneath Lambeth Asylum until Evie found him.  He blamed himself for what happened during the Autumn of Terror.  But as Ned put it, you can't save everyone.





	To Wake From a Nightmare

Hell did exist on earth. It had taken the form of the Lambeth Asylum. The innocent visage of its stone exterior gave an illusion of comfort to society that it was protected from those who were considered a danger. But in truth, it hid dark, unspeakable horrors within. And it had also given birth to a monster.

Jacob had failed Jack. He realized that far too late. When Jacob freed the boy from the asylum many years earlier, he wanted to give Jack a chance at life, to find purpose, and teach him to help protect others when there was no one to protect him.

Unknowingly, Jacob had released the Devil from the Pit.

He was cold. Everything hurt. He was certain that his left arm was broken. Ever since Jack had attacked Jacob in his home and brought him to this underground cell, Jack would visit every few days with barely enough food and water to sustain on, and proceeded to beat him mercilessly.

"Your sister has arrived," Jack whispered in his ear when the latest assault was over. "When I finish with her, I'll drag her corpse in here for you to admire, and then I'm going after your bastards and the bitch who spawned them. You'll get to see your family before you die. My gift to you, brother. One that I will never have."

Jacob wasn't sure how much time had passed as he drifted in and out of consciousness. When the coughing first set in, the worst fits would wake him.

"Jacob?"

_Evie...no…_

Shouts soon followed. He could hear Jack taunting his sister, trying to convince her that his way was the true Creed. That she was no different than him. Evie refused every poisoned word that Jack the Ripper spoke.

Then silence.

The creaking of the metal door hinges to his cell caused Jacob to slightly open his right eye. He made out two forms in his distorted vision—one holding a lantern and dragging the other on the floor. His eye slid closed.

_I'm so sorry, Evie…_

"Jacob."

Hearing Evie's voice, Jacob was certain that his mind was playing tricks on him. Then he was pulled into a familiar embrace he hadn't felt since he was a child. The one his sister gave him after waking from a nightmare, and would softly tell him it was over.

"Miss Frye, what the hell happened here?"

_Freddy…?_

"Nothing, Inspector. Nothing happened here. Trust me, Jack the Ripper is dead." Someone was shouting from within the asylum. "Now help me, Frederick," Evie pleaded. "No one must ever know that Jack the Ripper was an Assassin."

The shouter was closer and said something about journalists. "I want those vultures gone this instant!" Frederick ordered. "Is that clear?"

Jacob dared to open his eye and was blessed with the sight of his twin.

"It's over, Jacob," Evie spoke softly. "I'm here."

Relief tinged with sadness washed over Jacob and he gladly slipped into darkness.

* * *

The air wasn't musty and didn't hold the presence of death. He still hurt but he wasn't surrounded by stone and concrete. He was in a bed, propped up on pillows. With slow caution, Jacob opened his right eye. The frayed edge of white linen at the corner of his sight hinted that a bandage was wrapped around his head and covering his left eye. Looking down at himself, Jacob saw he wore a buttoned pajama top, while the rest of him was under blankets. The stitching along the left sleeve had been removed to accommodate the splint on his forearm and a pillow had been placed underneath to give support. The drapes were mostly closed allowing just a bit of the late afternoon light within. He knew this room though it had been quite some time since he was in it and the bed. Judging from the feel, the mattress and pillows had been purchased recently. The sheets were still the same and Jacob took comfort in the familiarity.

The sofa that was in the parlor had been brought into the bedroom. Sleeping upon it was Jacob's twelve-year-old son. The sight of his second child formed a lump in Jacob's throat and his vision blurred a bit.

"...David…" he tried to call, but his mouth was like cotton and his throat was dry, making his voice barely a whisper. Fortunately, there was a large book on the night-table to his right, indicating that he had been read to while unconscious. With great effort that seemed to outweigh every single fight he had ever participated in, Jacob reached for the book. He managed to catch the corner with his fingertips and slowly pushed the book towards the edge of the night-table. It toppled off, hitting the floor with a small thud, but loud enough to wake the sleeping boy. He started at the noise, rubbed at his sleepy dark brown eyes as he sat upright.

"David..."

He looked over at the bed, seeing his father awake and smiling lightly at him. David raced over and hugged him tightly, causing a grunt of pain to escape. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" David jumped back.

"S'alright," Jacob rasped. "S'alright." He reached out, pulling David back to him. His son was more careful this time with the hug.

"I'll be right back." David ran to the bedroom door, opening it, and yelled into the hallway, "He's awake! He's awake!"

Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and by the time David returned to his father's side, Ned, Evie, Jacob's sixteen-year-old son, George, and five year-old-daughter, Cecily, ran into the bedroom.

"Papa!" Cecily cried.

"Careful, sweetheart," Ned caught their daughter's arm. "He's still sore so you have to be gentle for a while."

"I forgot about that," said David sheepishly.

Jacob smiled his forgiveness then lightly patted the bed in permission for his daughter to sit next to him. Evie and George stood to Jacob's left, while Ned stayed on his right with David and Cecily. Ned filled a glass of water from the pitcher on the dresser. He held it to Jacob's lips, being extremely careful as he sipped. Jacob held the water in his mouth for a moment then swallowed. He took a few more sips before nodding he was done.

"How long?" Jacob managed to whisper.

"Over six weeks," said George. "Aunt Evie found you three days ago."

"Did the bad man hurt you, Papa?" Cecily asked.

"You don't have to worry about the bad man anymore," Ned smiled. "Your Aunt Evie took care of him."

"Come on," Evie said to the children. "Let's go make your father something to eat."

"Noooooo!" Cecily whined her protest, not wanting to leave her father's side.

"You can bring it up here and we'll eat in the bedroom," said Ned.

That eased her dismay, and Evie ushered her nephews and niece from the room, closing the door behind them.

"I'll let Frederick know you're awake," Ned sat in the spot their daughter vacated. "He stopped by yesterday."

Jacob cupped Ned's cheek, noticing the extra gray in his hair and the deepened worry lines around his eyes. Ned leaned forward, capturing Jacob's lips. Grief and anxiety mixed with overjoyed relief poured into the kiss as tears finally escaped from them both.

Ned pulled back to look at his husband; voice thick with emotion, "Don't you ever do that to me again, Jacob Frye."

* * *

Jacob's health slowly improved in the following days. He was able to speak without his voice cracking or needing a drink of water after finishing a sentance. His left arm no longer needed the splint as it had only been fractured and not broken as Jacob originally feared; however, it still needed to be wrapped for support and a sort of splint was required at night while sleeping. The bandage over his eye was removed, but the doctor recommended wearing an eye-patch during the brighter hours of the day while inside the house and to wear it anytime he went outside. Jacob had groused that he probably wouldn't need it anymore by the time he would be able to go outside. Ned enforced that he would wear it until the doctor said otherwise.

"Checkmate," Ned grinned.

"Aren't you supposed to let the sick person win?"

"You're not exactly sick."

"Incapacitated, then. What difference does it make? I'm not allowed out of bed except to use the water closet!" Jacob growled. "I swear I have cabin fever."

"I have no doubt you do, love, but you have to rest," Ned gave him the look that was only used in business deals. "Orders from the doctor and me."

Jacob frowned. "At least make it a bit tolerable," he patted the bed, "come and join me."

Ned raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you also told no strenuous activities?"

"Nothing strenuous. I just want to hold you for a little while. Maybe slip my hand under your shirt."

Rolling his eyes as he gathered the pieces, Ned put the chess set away. He walked over to the left side of the bed and took hold of the pillows. Counting to three, Ned carefully pulled the pillows closer to him as Jacob moved with them to allow space for Ned to lay next to his husband. Ned returned to the other side and climbed onto the bed. Jacob wrapped his good arm around Ned's smaller frame as he rested his head on Jacob's shoulder.

"I've missed this," Jacob said quietly into Ned's hair, "and you."

"I missed you so much," Ned admitted, "not knowing what happened, if you were still alive…" he gently took Jacob's left hand. "It was the worst thing I have ever gone through."

"Worse than wearing a dress when we said 'I do'?"

"That was for show at the courthouse. But as long as it meant that you were home safe and sound, I'd wear a fucking dress every damn day. For about ten minutes."

"Ten?" Jacob looked down at his better half in shock. "You really do love me. I would've thought two."

Ned glared at him. "Don't make me hurt you, Frye. I want you at one hundred percent."

"Something on your mind?"

"Yes. The five of us are finally going to take that trip to Galway we've been putting off. And then, we'll have George take David and Cecily out for the day-"

"Do I foresee us reenacting the debauchery of our honeymoon?" Jacob asked innocently.

"And then some," Ned confirmed. Being mindful of Jacob's injuries, Ned carefully straddled his lap and leaned forward to kiss him. Jacob sighed contently and settled his hands on Ned's thighs. In turn, Ned unbuttoned the pajama top and kissed his way down Jacob's neck and chest.

"Ned, darling," Jacob breathed, "I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining-"

"Then shut up and enjoy the prelude."

"But strenuous activities-"

"Who said you're doing anything strenuous?" Ned looked at him, smirking at the reaction as he rubbed Jacob's erection through the cotton. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

Jacob nodded. "I'll shut up."

Verbally, he would. Vocally was another story. And Jacob was pretty damn vocal when he was at Ned's mercy.

* * *

It was New Year's Eve, and all of London was looking forward to ending the year of the Autumn of Terror. Once in a while, a remaining fanatic would send a letter to the newspaper or Scotland Yard, claiming to be Jack the Ripper. They were quickly dealt with, courtesy of Evie or Nellie and her girls.

The children were already asleep in their beds. George had been the last to go to his room not even an hour prior. But he had been awake since before the crack of dawn; Jacob and Ned couldn't fault their eldest for deciding to greet the New Year in the morning.

Ned entered the living room and saw Jacob standing by the fireplace, leaning on a cane with his right hand, and a small photograph in his left. Ned didn't have to ask who was in it. He quietly walked over to Jacob and looked at the picture of his husband and the young boy.

"Where did I go wrong?" Jacob asked.

"You didn't," Ned softly responded.

"Are your certain about that?" the Master Assassin sighed. "I wanted to give him something to live for. All I did was send people to their deaths and made another mess for Evie to clean up."

"Now you listen to me," Ned's stern tone made Jacob look at him, "you can't save everyone. Jack started falling into that pit the day his mother was killed—and that is on Starrick, not you. What could have been saved was destroyed by Lambeth Asylum. You may have trained him but it was his choice on how to use it. Don't blame yourself for him or what he did."

Jacob stared at Ned, knowing that he was right. But there was that tiny bit nagging at him that things could have been different. He turned his gaze to the framed cloth on the fireplace mantel.

_Mary Ann Nichols_

_Annie Chapman_

_Elizabeth Stride_

_Catherine Eddowes_

_Mary Jane Kelly_

Nellie had embroidered the names and gave the small memorial to Jacob the day after Christmas. It pained him that history would only remember them as prostitutes, never knowing the truth behind their deaths. Only sad, unfortunate victims of Jack the Ripper.

Jacob looked down at the photograph he held. He closed his eyes briefly then released it, watching as it fell into the fireplace and was consumed by hungry flames. He turned, the cane steadying him as he walked to the sofa and sat down. Ned followed, sitting at the other end. Jacob looked at him then laid down with his head in Ned’s lap.

"Once a puppy, always a puppy." Ned stroked his husband's hair.

"Should I change?"

"Don't even think about it."

"I could lick your jowls, or something else since I'm down here," Jacob waggled his eyebrows.

"And which of our children do you want to traumatize?" Ned chided. "Save that talented tongue for Galway."

"Alright, Galway. Besides I don't think this sofa will survive another round. How many times was the one in your office repaired? Three?"

"Four. Don't forget the time Henry and Evie walked in on us."

"How could I forget?" Jacob chuckled. "Their expressions were priceless."

The grandfather clock on the adjacent wall began to chime, letting the couple know that 1888 was officially over and 1889 had begun. Ned leaned down and kissed Jacob until the chimes ceased. "Happy New Year, Jacob."

"Happy New Year, Ned."

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did a little research in regards to plumbing during the Victorian Era. The first place of business that had indoor plumbing in the United States was in 1829 at the Tremont Hotel, in Boston, Massachusetts. It had a total of eight "water closets" for the guests.
> 
> I'm winging it for 1888 that Ned and Jacob have indoor plumbing. People who probably did were of the upper class hierarchy and places of business (hotels, probably the boss's office, maybe the brothels, etc.). As they are crime lords in their own respect, they can afford to have a water closet.
> 
> I am a complete Jacob/Ned OTP. Yes, it's a bit far-fetched that they had three children in this story. However, I am a firm believer they had a child (aka: Lydia's father) together in the game.


End file.
